


Taking you Downtown

by PoisonedPrada



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Established Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs, F/F, Heartache, Heartbreak, Mirandy Bingo, Mirandy Week, Mirandy Year of Fun & Frolics, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2019-09-13 12:13:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16892394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoisonedPrada/pseuds/PoisonedPrada
Summary: A one shot scene of Andrea and Miranda on a Christmas night after 10 years of marriage.Based on a poem I wrote earlier and it inspired me to turn it into a one shot for them.





	1. Chapter 1

“I’m leaving,” Andrea voiced into the silent room upon which Miranda sat in the darkness. She was waiting for Andrea to come homes.  
She had been waiting for Andrea to say those words to her for a while now, she had been waiting. There was no fault to blame, there was simply life shaping their destinies again.  
“Do you hear me, Miranda?” the brunette said and a crack in her voice was visible. If she was honest with herself she loved Miranda more than life itself.  
“I do,” came the always stable tone of the Ice Queen. It was cold and calculated and yet her hand reached out to drag her younger lover to sit with her on the edge of the bed.  
“Miranda, we can’t…” Andrea started to explain but the older woman hushed her.  
“I’m taking you downtown,” she said softly.  
“What?”  
“Put on your best dress,” she continued.  
“I don’t understand …” Andrea said.  
“Do you trust me?” Miranda asked and the brunette nodded. She trusted Miranda, of course she did. She trusted the older woman with her whole life. They shared ten years of laughter, tears, homes, and love. They shared two daughters and a son. They shared this same heartache.  
She got up and turned the lights on. The first thing she was Miranda dressed in a silk black Armani dress, her hair was carefully styled and her blue eyes showed a small tint of red. She had cried. The next thing she saw was her side of the closet was empty, and everything was neatly folded and hung in boxes and carriers. Everything except two dresses, a diamond cut blue shimmer dress that she had worn for their anniversary and a red silk slip dress that had been a gift from Donatella. She opted for the red, if they were going to be bold it had to be all out. Miranda smiled, she had expected it and she approved.  
“Where to Madame?” she joked.  
“To a restaurant where everything is pronounced in French,” she said and it was an allusion to their first date when Andrea had said that Miranda liked to frequent expensive restaurants where everything was in French.  
The irony was that in all the years of marriage, Andrea had learned to love French cuisine.  
This time they arrived at a luxurious new restaurant in the midtown Manhattan. They dined and talked and wined. They didn’t talk about the past and they acted like there was no future. It was easy with Miranda, everything was easy with Miranda.  
After dinner, they walked down the avenues of the Big Apple, they window shopped in a somewhat silent New York. Miranda pointed out designer boutiques down 5th Avenue and Andrea laughed at her anecdotes. They ended up in a bar where they were overdressed. They sat at the stool and had a few shots. Andrea hadn’t seen Miranda have shots since their honeymoon and that was after much coaxing from the bartender in Cancun and herself. This was different, this was a Miranda she had never seen before. Miranda’s eyes sparkled in the cheap lights of the grungy bar. Everyone looked at them, and no one cared. The patrons probably did not recognize them, they weren’t the type and if they did, they were too drunk. The night was still young and they ended up in a place where the music was too loud for her to hear what Miranda was saying. She saw her lips move and her hands hold a drink for each of them. Her body protected Miranda’s, her hand locked the small of her back and they danced as if this was the first time they met. There was no expectation and when it was over, they walked out side by side. They stood there in the darkness of a new day, in the silence of chaotic laughs. Drunk college kids and semi sober older adults talking about the night and themselves. Miranda looked at Andrea for a brief second the way she used to look at her before all this came about. She looked at her like she shared a life with her, like she was the mother to her son and the adoptive mother to her daughters, like they shared a home, like she was the love of her life. She looked at her like this was the last Christmas night they ever would spend together. In the distance a siren wailed, the festive lights paled as the places closed.  
“Call me a cab?” she whispered to Andrea.  
“A cab?” the brunette asked.  
Miranda nodded, Andrea didn’t push. She knew that on holidays she often gave Roy the night off and she also knew this night was different. They hugged, and their cheeks touched, their lips brushed. Miranda got into the cab, the alcohol seeping slowly as the door closed. She had chosen to spend this night like nothing mattered. She had chosen to keep the memories at bay and mark tonight with fun. She had wanted them to simply be, to exist, to be happy. Perhaps she had hoped, but it didn’t matter now.  
Andrea stood and watched Miranda go, the last winter night they shared. And hope flickered for a second, downtown always solved everything. Everyone lost themselves here; but eventually they found themselves again. The cab was just a bright spot now in the quickly approaching morning and Christmas seemed so far away from what it was.


	2. Christmas Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was supposed to be a one shot. I'm not good at those. I hate un-tidy stories.   
> So here is part 2. How they met.  
> And there will be a part three.... soon.

“Hello Miranda,” a young brunette with large chocolate pools and soft white skin smiled upon the silver haired editor.   
The editor’s head turns slightly up, sweeping the brunettes figure with her eyes as she went, “Andrea?” came a confused and breathless answer to the greeting.  
“Hello, is usually customary,” Andrea countered in her soft, casual voice.   
“So, it is,” Miranda answered one more unimpressed, and aghast that tonight of all nights she was finding Andrea. Tonight 10 months after the silly girl had abandoned her in Paris, in a turmoil divorce and a frantic fashion week. Tonight, one night before Christmas as she took a lonely walk from Elias Clarke.  
“I hear tomorrow is Christmas,” Andrea smiled like Miranda and her were the best of friends.  
Miranda nods and pays for the carton of eggnog she had in her hand. It’s a posh liquor store a block away from her office. She never walks, she hadn’t walked more than a few steps in from the office to her car, or her home in years. She was the closest America had to royalty, fashion royalty. The media revered the ground she walked on, she had everything anyone could wish for and yet here she was alone on Christmas eve, paying for a carton of eggnog and finding Andrea of all people. She wanted to be mean, she wanted to say something cruel to the young woman standing in front of her in a Dolce and Gabbana trench coat and leather boots to counter the New York winter. She wanted to make Andrea feel sad and desperate just like she had felt in Paris. She thought Andrea would be there for her, that she would help her, that she would do her job, that she would save her. What a disappointment it had been, she had been more of a disappointment than anyone else. She had believed in her more than anyone else.  
“Merry Christmas, Miranda,” Andrea smiles again. Her eyes are sincere and her voice cracks it brings Miranda back to reality, snaps her back in place. She can’t be mean to Andrea, she never could, and that was why it hurt so much when she had left. She cared for her.  
“Merry Christmas, Andrea,” she whispers and pats the young reporters forearm before walking out of the store.  
Andrea smiles, she had come back to New York to find her, to find Miranda. She hadn’t caught her before she left Elias Clarke for the evening, Roy had told her she had sent him home. She wanted to walk, Andrea thought that maybe Miranda felt lonely. She had hoped that if she found her, but with Miranda you could never hope. She was so guarded, so ice cold.   
She buys a bottle of wine, and plans to drink it alone, in her hotel room. She can’t risk being hurt again but then she can’t risk not taking this chance.  
“Miranda!” she calls breathless, paper bag with a wine bottle waving in the air, heels clacking as she attempted to run the whole block the woman had managed to walk. How did she walk so fast in heels?  
“Miranda!”  
The silver haired editor stops, sweeps her hair slightly, “Andrea? Are you all right?”  
She breathes hard as she stops in front of the most famous woman in fashion, “I hear your divorce is finalized.”  
Miranda looks at her puzzled, like she’s a dumb child.  
“It is,” she deadpans.  
“I’m sorry,” Andrea says.  
“For my divorce?”  
“For Paris, I’m sorry for Paris. This is not at all how I imagined saying this.”  
“You are rambling and you know how much I love when you ramble,”   
“I came back for you, I left New York and came back, to find you and say that …”  
“Do you need closure for Paris? Andrea you have it, it wasn’t a big deal … there are a million..”  
“Girls who want my job,” the young brunette sates agitated, “I know.”  
“Go home Andrea,” Miranda starts to dismiss her, “It’s Christmas e.”  
She was going to say it was Christmas eve and she should be with her family but is cut off by the younger woman leaning in to steal a kiss.   
“But not a million girls who would do that. That’s why I left Miranda, because every time I saw you I wanted to kiss you. The night of your divorce, I wanted to comfort you. You wouldn’t let me. I wanted to be there for you, but I was just …”  
“My assistant”  
“Right.”  
“Well,” Miranda looks down. She purses her lips, she’s still holding the eggnog. This whole situation is so laughable, like taken out of a poorly produced Lifetime movie. She thinks back to that night; the signs were there. Andrea asked if she could do something for her, and Andrea tried to warn her of Irv and Andrea… Andrea … Andrea was always there.  
“Miranda?” two doe-like eyes look up at her, somewhere in the background the lights become brighter, they reflect in the young brunette’s eyes. They shine like starts, like warning bells that this will end very bad. But she cares for this woman, she had for a long time now.   
“Well,” the editor pauses, “I hear tomorrow is Christmas and I happened to know a great French restaurant that opens tomorrow.”  
Immediately Andrea smiles.  
“Would you like to accompany?”  
“Yes, yes I would Miranda Priestly, but there is one caveat,” she says.  
“what is it?”  
“I now have a bottle of wine we have to share,” she finishes.  
“That is doable,” the older woman extends out her hand.  
They walk in tandem, to the townhouse. They pour the wine, they talk and Andrea holds Miranda’s hands across the table.  
“Miranda I’d like to date you, and marry you and everything with you,” it was just strewn across the table like decorations.   
“Andrea, this isn’t easy. The press,” she starts a list Andrea nods saying, “I know.”  
“And the twins,”  
“I know.”  
“And your family,”  
“They know,”  
“Okay … then yes,” the editor whispers feather like. She takes her heels off and motions for the brunette to come over. Andrea does she sits next to Miranda and all the questions that were on the tip of their tongues are answered as they look at each other. She’s expecting so much from this woman, from this moment and it doesn’t’ disappoint when she leans in to kiss her. It’s as if everything she has ever wanted was found. She wasn’t lost in the kiss, she was found, she was home.   
“Yes?” Andrea asks once more to be sure.  
“Yes, Andrea Sachs I’d like to date you.”  
And just like that they found themselves at a French restaurant where all the names could hardly be pronounced, just like that they found themselves at a cheap bar, one that was open on Christmas, and a promise of home.


	3. New Year's Eve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last part ...

In her sleep, the young brunette seemed so peaceful, so unguarded, so similar to the woman she had married. Miranda wanted nothing more than Andrea to be that woman again, to smile, to make her laugh, to be at peace. She wanted to make her understand that what had happened was not her fault. They years that transcribed after the accident were grey and cloudy, they stumbled through them, faking smiles and hiding tears. Miranda had failed in consoling Andrea, she had failed in making her understand it wasn’t her fault, she didn’t blame her, no one did. She failed to make her feel loved, it was only moments like this when she was asleep that she ever saw a glimpse of who Andrea used to be.  
The first six years of their relationship were glorious, Andrea was unlike anyone she had ever dated. She could dare to say that Andrea was the first person she had loved truly. The young journalist made her laugh, she understood her, she never demanded, she loved the girls like their own, and though they were a bit weary at first both twins loved her back. They shared holidays and started traditions of their own.  
Miranda could not understand what Andrea saw in her or how she had gotten so lucky but she didn’t question it. Andrea loved Miranda in a wild, crazy way. It was as if the silver haired editor had set of a fire in the younger woman. Andrea loved her drive, her perfectionism, her wit, her sarcasm and the soft hidden side the woman had with her. She loved the beautiful things she created, the passion for her craft, and the glamour she brought into her life.  
“I think one day, you’ll tire of me and divorce me,” Miranda had noted on their honeymoon.  
“I would never, I will never,” the brunette declared perched on a windowsill in Madrid, “I will always love you Miranda Priestly, from now until the end of time.”  
Miranda believed her, she had to. She had to believe her because she was too far gone to do anything else. In her defense Andrea meant every single word. She never once doubted her love for the famous editor, she weathered the press, the endless fashion shows, the autographs, her curious family and Miranda’s own doubts. Andrea was a lifetime sort of person. And if the first six years were any indication, they would last a lifetime. Everything was like a fairytale, until the accident.  
That forsaken accident. It was the eve of the twin’s birthdays. They were turning 14 and it was their last summer before high school. Andrea had convinced Miranda to take them to Disneyland, they would see the sunny California beaches, celebrate their birthday and call it an end of childhood.  
“They are always going to be my little girls,” Miranda had countered.  
“Yes, I know; but to the rest of the world, my darling, they will be teens,” Andrea reasoned.  
“I want to go see Mickey!” Danny exclaimed. Danny was almost four, he had come a year after their marriage. Both women had agreed that they needed an addition to their new founded family and the twins loved the idea of being big sisters. Andrea had been the carrying mother, and they picked a donor close to Miranda’s complexion. As a result, Danny had beautiful blue eyes, that resembled Miranda’s, he had pale blonde hair and peachy whit skin. He was Miranda’s son in looks, but he acted just Andrea.  
“Do you, my darling?” Miranda asked softly, cradling the young child. It was curious to see Miranda act so vastly different with him. She spoiled him rotten, and when she tucked him in to sleep her eyes softened, just like they did with the twins and she smiled as if he was the only thing in the world that mattered.  
“Come on Miranda! Let’s go to Disney!” Andrea insisted.  
She won, the decided to go. Once they arrived, the night before the birthday Cassidy realized she had forgotten Caroline’s gift in New York. It was a silly tradition where they always bought each other a gift.  
“You can just give to her when we get back,” Miranda said in a business manner.  
“But mom!!! It will break tradition!” she insisted.  
“Then we’ll get one tomorrow,” Miranda negotiated, she was ready for bed. The flight had been tiring and tomorrow they had a full day.  
“Then she’ll see it. And I won’t have it for her in the morning!”  
“It’s late Cassidy, go to bed,” her mother said.  
“It’s only 7, we can go to the mall. I saw a store super close. Please mom?”  
“I’ll take her Miranda, we’ll go and be right back.”  
“Andrea stop spoiling her, it’s not the end of the world,” she said.  
Andrea neared the older woman and whispered, “exactly, I’ll go and you can rest. Let’s not make it a huge deal.”  
“Fine, but don’t delay. Take Danny,” she instructed to the smile of her daughter and her wife.  
Miranda took her day clothes off and went to sleep. A deep fear woke her up, like a nightmare. She woke up gasping for air and feeling for Andrea next to her, only Andrea wasn’t next to her. Her phone said it was past midnight.  
“Five hours,” she whispered to herself.  
She jumped from bed and ran into the connecting room, Caroline was fast asleep, but her other children were missing. Panic crept into her bones and she called Andrea’s phone. It went to voicemail, she must have called ten times, then her daughters phone. No answer. She wringed her hands together, and her felt fear like she had never felt before. Something was terribly wrong. She ran down to the lobby, skipped the elevator and ran down the emergency stairs. She was wearing black silk pajamas and a white robe with black trim, that flew as she descended the stairs. She was wearing Andrea’s cat slippers and she must have looked like a mad woman as she approached the lobby clutching her phone, wringing her hands and tapping the room card.  
“Ms. Priestly is everything alright?” they asked.  
“I need to find my wife, and my children,” she whispered shaking her head.  
“In the resort?” they asked.  
Again, she shook her head, “they went out to the store,” she took a deep breath. Realized how silly this all sounded, she ran her free hand through her silver hair.  
“They are not answering their phones,” her voice sounded desperate and try as she might tears fell down. The tears seemed to do the trick, the lobby was relatively empty and the front desk attendants sprang into action, “we will call the local authorities, we will find them. They may just be lost or derailed. Don’t panic, Ms. Priestly.”  
The young man and woman behind the counter stepped outside and sat her at a nearby blue couch.  
“Let me get you some tea,” the young blonde woman whose nametag read, “Nancy.”  
Miranda nodded, took the offered cup of Chamomile and honey and waited. The minutes seemed to lace, endless loops. She wasn’t sure how much time elapsed. The young man making the calls finally hung up the phone, his face fell. Miranda knew, she instantly knew. She hadn’t spent her whole life reading people to not recognize that look.  
“We found them,” he started.  
“Are they okay?” she asked, so passively that she almost did not recognize her own voice. Inside she was screaming, she was jumping, she was tearing this dumb blue couch into pieces.  
She wanted to ask if they were dead. Stupid fucking teenager, he could not possibly understand.  
“Your wife is in the hospital,” was all he said before whispering, “why don’t you go change we will have a car ready to take you in a few minutes.”  
Miranda nodded, she nodded and got up.  
A million question ran through her head, she had to wake Caroline up. Details never got past her, he had said Andrea was in the hospital but he hadn’t mentioned her kids. She took two shots of vodka in the room, downed them like she used to when she was a young jr. editor.  
It took a few hours for Andrea to wake up, “Where is Cass and Danny?” she asked and Miranda had no words to answer her. She had no words except anger for making her go through the last hours alone, to lose her children alone, and console Caroline alone, she didn’t know what to say. So, she said the only thing she should not have, “It’s all your fault.”  
Four words between sobs, four words that produced cries from the bed ridden brunette, four words she would never be able to take back.

Miranda regretted those words more than she regretted anything in her life. That was four years ago. When they got home, inundated in condolences and Disney plush animals, Andrea was different.  
“Andrea, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean it. It’s no one’s fault,” she truly believed it. Of course, it hurt to lose her only son and her eldest twin. She was heartbroken beyond words a mother should never see her children die. Their lifeless bodies would always haunt her, and she ached for Caroline.  
“I understand Miranda, if I hadn’t insisted,” Andrea said.  
“That’s not it, you know I didn’t mean it. I was tired and heartbroken. I had no words to explain what had happened, Andrea?” she asked.  
“It’s fine Miranda, I have nothing to forgive.”  
Miranda knew that the pain of losing Cass and Danny weighted on her lover just as much as it did on her, she knew the words she had said only deepened the gash.  
The nights and days mingled one with the other, they learned to go on, to exist and they never talked about that night at the hospital again.  
Perhaps that’s what it was. Perhaps that was what drove them apart.  
Andrea felt like she had failed as a parent, she had failed Miranda in the most important task. As many times, as Miranda and Caroline told her it was not her fault, she blamed herself for the accident, she had looked away from the road for a second, she had insisted they go, she had planned the trip to California. It was indeed her fault. Miranda offered to have another child, but Andrea could not do it, she felt empty. She had lost her own child, and she had lost Miranda’s child and she had lost her trust. Eventually she would shut Miranda down whenever the older woman started to talk about it, to say she was sorry, to offer her arms to cry on. Eventually they stopped talking about the accident, they would visit the cemetery once a year and pretended that everything was fine. Slowly Miranda started to work more and more hours, she withdrew into the magazine. She would schedule shoots in different states, long days editing, and she’d go to every fashion show she could. Caroline started accompanying her as Andrea started to spend more hours in the den writing her book and drinking. For the past two years Miranda had gone alone to Fashion week and Caroline had tried to make her mother’s travel to Disney again as a tribute to her siblings for her 18th birthday but Andrea had refused and Miranda had simply sighed, walked out of the den. She had later returned with the keys to a brand -new BMW for Caroline’s birthday.  
Caroline had left for college that same year, she knew Andrea would leave. She had been waiting for a while for her young lover to say the words to her. In the fall Caroline left, it was now December. Seeing her asleep like so, almost made her hope.  
“Miranda?” the brunette woke up startled and looked confused at the pair of blue eyes staring at her.  
“Andréa,” she calls out half breathless and half longing, like a whisper and a sigh. She wants to convey everything she feels, everything that has gone wrong.  
“I love you, you know?”  
“I know,” Andrea wings softly as she exits the bed.  
“I always will, from now until the end of time,” she repeats as Andrea walks into the ensuite.  
“I’ll be late tonight,” Andrea yells as the shower turns on.  
“I know,” Miranda whispers.

NEW YEARS EVE THAT SAME MONTH;

“I did blame you, for a brief moment. You would have too. Mostly I was mad at you, mad for making me go through it all alone as you slept unconscious. I was so glad you were okay, I could not have survived if something happened to you. It was so terrifying, I always have control and that one time. I was so powerless, all the money and all the influence could do nothing. I was mad at you for asking about them, because I had no answers. I didn’t know how to console you, how to be strong. I never thought it was your fault, not in the way you thought I did. I wanted you to be there for me like you always had been, you were always my rock, the one who made me laugh in the darkest of times. Instead you withdrew, you shut me out, you shut me down, every time I tried to say how sorry I was. I miss them, more than anything and you never wanted to talk about them. Andrea, I didn’t know what I could do. I have never been good at loving, but trust me when I say I never stopped loving you. I’m sure she would not have wanted us to be apart. And Caroline went off to college running away from us, from the dark place the house had become. She tried her best, she did everything she was supposed to do. I wish you could have stayed,” Miranda had repeated what she was going to say to Andrea a million times as she drove to the hotel. Only a few days had elapsed, she had been sure on Christmas Eve that she would never see Andrea, but Caroline had come home and she had convinced her mother to try once more. She had rehearsed the apology, the proposal to come back home. This had not been it, she had not meant to say in a paragraph all she had been feeling for four years.  
“Is that it?” Andrea deadpans.  
This is not going to turn out well.  
Miranda nods, “Happy New Year’s Eve.”  
“Let’s go downtown?” Andrea offers. Her hotel is about a block away.  
“Don’t be silly, it’s crowded. It’s New Year’s Eve,” Miranda says. She’s hugging her coat, the wind outside the hotel was strong and harsh.  
“Do you trust me?” Andrea questions.  
Miranda nods, of course she trusts her. She trusts her with her life.  
“I can’t Caroline is home alone,” Miranda explains.  
Andrea purses her lips and hands the older woman a New Year’s crown. Miranda takes the crown. There is a barely visible smile as she nods. Her eyes meet brown orbs and they know, downtown would fix everything someday "Perhaps tomorrow," Miranda says. "Tomorrow then," Andrea calls as Miranda walks away.


	4. TOMORROW THEN ~

She remembers the words exactly, “Tomorrow then”

“Tomorrow,” she had said but neither of them had expected a follow through. It had not happened, January first had come and gone. Andrea had rented an apartment outside the city, in the part of New York that no one associated with New York. The one that was green and lush and had lakes running wildly through it. Here she could hear herself think. She could hear herself miss Miranda. She could see that it hadn’t been Miranda’s fault, aside from the careless words. It had been a crisis, a crisis not averted that had driven them away. The love off her life was lost along with her two beautiful children. Instead of salvaging what they could, instead of given Caro the best life they could, they drifted apart. 

Miranda had tried, she had apologized. It was the guilt that Andrea felt for taking that ride that had augment her sadness. She should have gotten counseling, Miranda offered, she could have. It had been too late that night, they were ready to call it off. 

However, here in this vast calm of green; she wasn’t sure. She could do tomorrow. She could do downtown one more time. A smile crept up on her lips every time she thought of that. In the wall of her country apartment there were four big pictures, running across the living room. Their wedding day, and one each of their children. The photographs were of another time. 

The months transcribe without much ado, after a lifetime of living with Miranda she doesn’t see the older woman for months. Spring comes and she gets a visit from Caroline, the little girls she used to know is a young woman and she makes Andrea very proud. 

“I should apologize at some point,” Andrea says. 

“Why?” they are sitting in the large backyard it overlooks a field. 

“I should have been a better mother, after the accident.”

The young redhead shakes her head, “we didn’t know how to act. There is no manual for such a thing. I have nothing to forgive, we were all trying to survive. I only wish you and mom had stayed together. She will always love you, you know that right?”

Andrea nods, “as will I.”

The melting ice of New York winters and spring turns into summer heat, into blatant sun that does not forgive. Miranda is often distracted as she stares out the window of her 50th floor office. From time to time she sees the couples, they laugh and fight and live. I guess she had a good run, they did last a long time. For the love that everyone betted against, they sure did show people. Then there was downtown and that night, that fateful night. All she remembers was laughter and good memories. That was all that there was of their long relationship, that and two graves in an uptown cemetery. She too has all pictures hanged across her office.

In her window, the heat of summer turns to falling leaves, and the rush of a September issue. Models and furs and snapshots galore and at the end of the long days she comes home to find silence. She promised Andrea she’d respect her decisions but she wishes she had not. 

Then it starts to snow and the snow is perfect for nostalgia, nostalgia and whiskey. It is time for the unsolicited to become the ordinary. 

“Andrea?” Miranda seems surprised it’s been a whole year after all. It’s December, it’s Christmas eve.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be home,” the brunette offers a wrapped box. It’s small and Miranda offers her to come inside.

The brunette shakes her head, “I want to take you somewhere.”

Miranda eyes her suspiciously, she looks at the wrapped gift. 

“I don’t have a gift for you,” she says.

“I don’t want a gift just come with me,” she asks. 

“Andrea, I don’t’ think this is a good idea, I’m not dressed,”

“you look fine, I promise you don’t need a fancy gown.”

“Fine,” Miranda grabs her coat, and puts on some boots. She still has the unopened gift in her hand. They get in the town car and Andrea drives against the traffic into clear roads and dark paths. 

“where are we going?” Miranda asks. 

“Downtown,” Andrea answers. 

Both women want to say something, something completely different, but they are taken back by the flutter of those words against their emotions. 

“Downtown turns out to be downtown in the country side, a romantic restaurant under the stars. Wooden, rustic tables and a whole room for them.”

“Did you buy out the restaurant?” Miranda asks.

“Who knows, we’re here now. Don’t you like it?”

Miranda nods, it’s different. She likes this new Andrea, the peace in her soul.   
“You look good, is it better being far away from me?” she asks. 

Andrea chuckles, “no.”

Her one words makes Miranda sigh. 

“You never came back the next day,”

“Excuse me?” Miranda seems confused.

“that New Year’s, you said tomorrow and you never came back.”

“I’m here now, it wasn’t time then.”

Andrea knows she’s right. 

“Downtown will fix everything, I always thought that. That’s where we started you know?’

“Buying eggnog at a corner store, do they have eggnog here?’ Miranda jokes.

“they have a corner store, and a wine store, and a bar, and a clothes shop,” Andrea explains.

“Do you like it here?” 

Andrea nods, “it’s given me the clarity to see how much I need you. Caro came,” she says.

“I know, she told me,” Miranda answers.

“do you think downtown can fix us?”

The questing seems to linger in the air.

“what about tomorrow?” Miranda asks. 

“I think it’s time for you to open your gift,” Andrea changes the subject. 

The box is a ring box, it’s a silver wedding band with an engraved quote.

“Tomorrow then,” Miranda reads and smiles.

“How ironic,” she says.

“Tomorrow we’ll be fine Miranda, we should have been fine before but that’s the past. Now we’re here and I love you and I know you love me. I want to try this again, I can’t lose you again. Do you …? Do you want to downtown with me?”

There is something akin to desperation in Andrea’s eyes. 

“Yes,” she whispers.

“Yes, Andrea I want to downtown with you. I want to downtown for the rest of our lives. Tomorrow and every tomorrow with you.”


End file.
